


the lighthouse in the night

by crazygirlne



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Mentions of Past Abuse/Neglect, Sharing a Bed, Temporary Blindness, Touching, sibling dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 12:37:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10437903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazygirlne/pseuds/crazygirlne
Summary: Leonard and Lisa are showing Sara around Central City when Sara's rendered temporarily unable to see. Leonard takes care of her, and Lisa takes care of them both.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I typically go for as medically accurate as possible without being over the top. Sometimes, though, I just want to play with a trope without too high of stakes.
> 
> This fic is the latter. If you’re looking for a realistic head injury, probably go elsewhere. If you want a Captain Canary hurt/comfort fic with a dose of Snart sibling interaction, you’re in the right place.
> 
> So basically, I’ve started talking to Tavyn and Claudiarain like 24/7. I’ve always had this problem where I have a million plot bunnies, only now, I mention them and I get, “YES DO IT NEED IT,” so just fyi, so many many more things in the works. This is also a prompt fill for @ficcingcaptaincanary Siblings.
> 
> Discussion of past neglect/abuse, without graphic detail.
> 
> Lastly, title from “Hearts Don’t Break Around Here” because I’m obsessed.

 

“Lenny…”

Leonard shakes his head at his sister, silently asking Lisa to keep her concerns to herself for right now. He knows he'll hear it the second they've got privacy, but she'll let him focus for the moment.

“What’s next?” he growls toward the phone, which is on speaker and echoes in the dim little room.

“Okay,” Raymond relays, “run the remote scanner over Sara again.”

Leonard grabs it, then winces and shifts the little device from his right hand to his left, ignoring his sister’s sharp gaze.

“It's a good thing you brought the scanner,” Raymond says as Leonard runs it over Sara’s too-still form. “It'd be better if the Waverider could get back so Gideon could help, but—”

“But it can't until tomorrow morning,” Leonard interrupts, “so just tell me what I need to do.”

“You need to fix what’s probably a broken hand,” Lisa murmurs, and Leonard shoots her a quick glare, keeping his right hand cradled to his chest.

“I'm getting the data, hold on,” says Ray, oblivious to the exchange. “Really, it's impressive that we can talk at all, let alone that I can access— Okay, here we go. Sara's gonna be fine, Leonard, except…”

“Except what, Raymond?” Leonard holds his breath as he waits.

“Based on how she hit her head when she fell, she probably won't be able to see for the first eight to twelve hours after she wakes up. And then she'll be fine, her normal, healthy self. There's nothing you can do until then besides keep her comfortable.”

Leonard exhales. “Thank you.” He sets down the scanner and hangs up the phone. Even knowing she’s going to be alright, it still takes him a minute to tear his eyes from Sara. She’s never this still for this long, and part of him has to fight the urge to shake her awake, despite knowing that wouldn’t actually help either of them.

When he finally looks back at his sister, she’s watching him with raised eyebrows, clearly unimpressed. “Can I deal with your hand now?” Lisa holds up the first aid kit he insists they keep stocked in any of their safe houses, which he knows comes complete with some sturdy bandaging, and he nods. He turns his body toward Lisa, letting himself glance at Sara once more in the process, and she takes his hand, gentle despite the tension in her jaw.

“Remind me again why you can’t actually get this checked out?” she asks. “Didn’t they clear your record?”

“Sara’s still legally dead,” he answers. “And I’m not going to a doctor for my hand and leaving her behind with a head injury.” He straightens his fingers carefully, holding his breath. “If it’s broken, it’s hairline, anyway. It’s not like they’d be able to do anything at a hospital that we can’t do here. Just wrap it tight and give me the best painkillers we have.”

She does, silently, and though he knows her judgement comes from a good place, it rubs him wrong.

At least until she speaks. “It looks like you probably hurt it again where you did that one time, after Dad lost the grocery money you stole.”

Lost. Leonard can’t even remember how their father lost the money. He gambled it, or he drank it, or he paid a crew that deserted him. The how didn’t really matter. What mattered was the money Leonard had risked his ass to earn in order to feed himself and his little sister was gone, and Leonard was so angry, he punched a wall.

The wall turned out to be a bit more solid than his fist. Lisa’s right, of course; this feels the same, and before she covers it, it looks like it’ll probably bruise the same, too.

“I didn’t know you remembered that,” he says quietly.

Lisa shrugs a shoulder. “Only time I remember you being violent without a purpose behind it.”

That would stick, wouldn’t it, for a kid growing up with the father they shared?

“I’m sorry,” he says, for that time, for this one, for everything in their childhood he wasn’t able to shield her from.

“I’m not,” she says simply. “Sometimes you’ve gotta get angry to get things done. He never found the money you set aside for food after that, did he?”

Leonard shakes his head. Sure, Lewis still controlled most of the family income, regardless of who brought it in, but Leonard always made sure there was at least enough for food, for those times when their father forgot.

“Speaking of food,” Lisa says, fastening the bandage, putting away her supplies, and handing him a couple ibuprofen, “we were planning to eat out, so I didn’t make sure we had anything in the house. I’ll go see what we’ve got and pick something up if nothing’s edible.”

He nods and swallows the pills, and his sister smiles in that way that means he’s forgiven for being himself, and then he’s alone with Sara again. His hand isn’t throbbing as badly now that it’s wrapped, and the bandaging means he won’t forget and grab something else with it. After he’s avoided it as long as he can, he looks back toward Sara.

It probably shouldn’t be so hard to see her like this, he thinks, but it’s almost impossible. His eyes are drawn to the rhythmic motion of her chest as she breathes, the only indication she’s even alive. He grabs the little armchair that’s in the room and scoots it as close as he can to the bed, sitting so he’s facing her. He has a ridiculous impulse to take her hand in his, but he ignores it. That’s not what they do.

When he hears the front door open and close, he knows Lisa won’t overhear, and he fills the silence to distract himself.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve had regrets,” he says. “It isn’t even the first time I’ve had regrets regarding you.” His mind takes him back to _It’s the things I_ didn’t _do that keep me up at night_ , and he breathes. “It’s still true, you know. It’s cowardly, I know, telling you while you’re unconscious, but I can’t seem to bring myself to start the conversation again. Can never quite find the right time.”

Sara’s hand twitches, and Leonard quiets for a moment, but she makes no other movement; there’s just the steady rise and fall of her chest.

“I’ve been back on the team for months now, and yet, we’re still… I don’t know what we are, Lance. I don’t regret what we are now, but I still do regret not at least trying for more.” He watches her. She’s so still. “And I regret taking you and Lisa to that damned park today. If I’d chosen anywhere else…”

If he’d chosen somewhere else, maybe an idiotic pickpocket wouldn’t have thought the women were easy marks, and maybe Sara wouldn’t have tripped as the poorly maintained sidewalk collapsed under her feet, the hole too big and appearing too quickly even for her nimble reflexes. He tried to catch her, but his hand met concrete, and when Lisa stopped to see what was going on, the thief actually got away. Empty-handed, at least, but without the pummeling he deserved.

All on the day Leonard just _had_ to show Sara his and Lisa’s version of Central City while the nerds performed maintenance in the timestream.

His attention is ripped abruptly from his numerous regrets when Sara’s eyes flutter open. She freezes and blinks, and before he can speak, she sits up and pulls her knees toward her chest so she’s almost in a crouch, her hands out, instinctively ready to fend off anything or anyone who might try to harm her, and he’s not sure he’s ever seen that look of panic on her face before.

“Lance,” he starts, but that’s wrong; it’s the name he uses to distance himself. “Sara,” he tries again, softer, “you’re okay. You’re safe. Nobody here’s going to hurt you.”

“Leonard?” One of her hands moves toward him, shifting from defensive to seeking, and he stands so he can take it in his uninjured one. She grips it tightly, and part of his mind sarcastically reminds him that they don’t do things like hold hands.

He tells that part of himself to go to hell and holds on just as tight.

“You hit your head when you fell,” he tells Sara. “The blindness is only temporary.”

“How long?” She’s still so tense, still on guard.

“About eight hours. Twelve at the most. I was able to contact the Waverider, and they tapped into that scanner we packed.”

He sees her take a deep breath, watches her force herself to relax. It doesn’t seem to help much. She puts her back against the wall that serves as a headboard, and she wraps her free arm around her knees.

“You have no other injuries,” he tells her, trying to keep his voice low and comforting, but he’s worried enough about her that he’s not sure it works.

Sara’s sightless eyes scan the room before settling somewhere just left of his face. “I’m not scared of the dark,” she says, almost defensive, then swallows. “But pitch black is different. It takes me back to the Gambit, after it went down, and then everything that followed.”

Her eyes are wide, searching for light, until she screws them shut, gripping his hand even tighter. “I don’t like this, Len. I don’t like being helpless.”

“You aren’t helpless,” he says, not sure what else he even can say. “I bet you could still kick my ass.”

She chuckles and opens her eyes again, and they stop, unfocused, more or less on his face this time before she surges forward, and for a fleeting second, he thinks she’s really going to take him up on that bet. Then, she flings her arm around his neck, and he steadies her automatically with his injured free hand, barely containing a groan as he keeps her from falling off the bed.

Her knees are still on the bed, and he’s still standing, leaning toward her, so they’re only touching at a few points: their shoulders are almost even, they each have an arm around the other’s upper back, their hands are still linked, and she’s adjusted so her face is in the crook of his neck, her hair gently brushing his lower cheek.

It’s too much and not enough all at once, but when the pain fades from his hand, she’s made no move to pull back, and some of the tension has left her, so he takes a breath and lets himself relax into it, too, leaning his face against her head with a sensation akin to homecoming.

Of course that’s when Lisa gets back.

Sara tenses immediately, but Lisa makes her way straight to the bedroom, so he and Sara are still tangled together when she gets to the door, and Leonard can feel his sister’s eyes boring into his back.

“It’s just Lisa,” he murmurs to Sara, and she nods before pulling away, sitting back on her heels on the mattress as he lets his hands drop to his sides.

“I didn’t know what would be easy to eat without being able to see,” Lisa says, “and I didn’t figure you’d want either of us feeding you, so I ended up getting sandwiches.”

“Sounds good,” Sara says, sounding more herself than she had before the—and there’s really no other word for it—the hug they’d shared. He can’t tell, though, whether she’s actually doing better or she’s putting on a front for Lisa.

It’s probably both.

Lisa passes out the sandwiches. Leonard barely tastes his, but he manages to get it down. Sara only has a little bit of her sandwich, looking fairly uncomfortable, before she sets it aside. Leonard takes it off the bed so she doesn’t accidentally roll on it or anything, and then Sara looks around like she’s searching for something.

“Lisa?” she asks.

“Yeah?”

Sara looks toward his sister, relaxing some at locating her. “Can I get help to the bathroom, please? It’s small enough that I’ll be fine once I’m in there, but we weren’t here long enough this morning for me to know how to get to the bathroom with my eyes closed yet…”

“Of course,” Lisa says, standing. She lets Sara get off the bed, letting her know with careful touches where she is, then guides her out of the room.

Leonard takes a moment to collect himself, bowing his head and breathing deeply.

Sara’s fine. Lisa’s great. He’s fine. There’s no reason for him to still be this on edge. Only…

“You love her.” His sister’s voice from the doorway is quiet but sure. “I don’t know how I didn’t see it earlier.” She tilts her head at him. “You’re not going to deny it?”

“I can’t.” He sounds as resigned as he feels.

“You’re not even gonna try to pretend it’s just love for a teammate.” It’s not a question this time. “You’re _in love_ with her.”

“Is there a point to this?” he asks, finally lifting his head to look at Lisa properly.

She’s watching him as if she’s puzzling something out, and then her expression finally relaxes. “My point is, she’s okay, and you’re allowed to relax.” She waits until he nods before she smirks. “You are _not_ allowed to give me any shit when I tell you I’m seeing Cisco.”

“ _What_?”

“Coming, Sara!” she calls, knowing full well Leonard isn’t about to ask her to leave Sara stranded at the bathroom just so he can quiz her about Ramon. As she disappears, Leonard sighs.

Is it his feelings for Sara that aren’t letting him relax? He’s so used to hiding them, or at least coming shy of outright announcing them, and telling her, even while she couldn’t hear him, had felt almost liberating. Bottling them back up might prove more difficult than he imagined.

He cleans up any mess and is situated in the chair by Sara’s bed again before the women return, which confirms his suspicion that Sara hadn’t actually called Lisa when she’d used the excuse to leave. They help Sara under the covers.

“Okay,” Lisa announces when Sara’s settled, “I’m gonna go watch TV in the other bedroom until I fall asleep. You two behave.”

Leonard shoots her a glare, but Sara’s quiet, and when he turns his attention to the bed after Lisa leaves, he sees she’s gripping the covers.

“It’s too dark,” she whispers. “And it’s too quiet.” She shakes her head. “How’s your hand? Lisa told me you hurt it.”

“It’s fine,” he says, knowing that’s not saying enough but not really wanting to discuss his injury any further.

Sara huffs. “Okay, fine, a different topic, then. If Lisa’s taking the other bed, where are you planning to sleep?”

“I can get some rest in this chair.” He probably won’t sleep at all, he knows, not with the memory of her falling, of how still she was afterward, so clear in his mind. He’ll be that creepy guy who watches over her all night, as long as she doesn’t ask him not to.

“Yeah, right.” Sara turns on her side and feels behind her, backing up until she’s near the edge of the bed, then pats the empty space between them. “You can sleep here.”

It’s almost an order, and she can’t see him, anyway, but Leonard shakes his head. “I’m fine.”

“Well I’m not,” she snaps before taking a deep breath. “Look,” she says, more calmly this time, “I’m holding it together okay, but just barely, alright? I can’t see, I don’t recognize the sounds here, and I don’t really want to be alone right now, and with you all the way in the chair, I might as well be.”

Leonard can’t quite bring himself to answer, but he stands, and he knows she hears him based on the way she turns her head. He hesitates before climbing under the covers with her, and then he’s just…

He’s there, facing her, his face maybe a foot from hers if he’s being generous, and he realizes he left the lights on, but he really doesn’t care. She’s looking at him, her eyes still unfocused.

“Better?” He tries for the put-upon tone he’s perfected in his years as Lisa’s brother, but Sara grins, so he figures he failed.

But then she lifts her hand. “I can hear your scowl.” She pauses with her fingertips so close to his face he can feel the heat of her skin. “Can I…”

She wants to touch his face. He’s not sure he’d be okay with it normally, not even with her, but she can’t see, and she’s put so much trust in him, even in Lisa, that this seems a small favor in return. It’s not exactly like it’s unappealing, either, just…

It’s not a level of intimacy he normally allows. He can’t even just nod; he has to say the words aloud.

“Whatever floats your boat.” His voice is rougher than he was aiming for, but he doesn't much care at this point, especially once Sara’s hands start gently tracing the planes of his forehead. Her fingertips dip into the groove between his eyebrows, then trail back over an eyebrow and down along a cheek. As she nears his mouth, he realizes he’s no longer wearing the expression that prompted her request to touch, so he adopts an exaggerated scowl, and he sees a smile ghost across her lips.

He notices she’s closed her eyes, and as her fingers drift back up to his cheekbones, he does the same, letting his face relax as she continues to explore it. When she returns to his mouth, she pauses for only a moment before dragging the pad of her thumb lightly over his lower lip.

His mouth parts involuntarily at the contact, only slightly, but it’s enough that his breath washes over her thumb, and she pauses again before repeating the gesture. It feels like every inch of him is being set alight by the simple contact. She lifts her hand, then runs her fingers over his eyebrow again, across his cheek, skin lightly brushing closed eyelashes.

Sara brings her index finger back to his lips, then stops. He can feel her moving slowly, but he’s afraid to open his eyes, afraid to break the moment, afraid…

Her lips press softly against his. It’s nothing like the desperate kiss at the Oculus. This is tentative, careful, two people coming together in the dark.

It doesn’t last nearly long enough before she pulls away, returning to where she started and slowly removing her hand from his face. He doesn’t open his eyes, telling himself it’s because this way, they’re on equal footing, but he knows that’s a lie.

He’s afraid of what he’ll see on her face, and he’s not sure which he fears more: happiness or regret.

No, it’s regret. He definitely fears regret.

Leonard just keeps from jumping when she touches his hand, gently, pulling away when skin meets bandage.

“Sorry,” she says.

But there was intent behind her touch, so Leonard adjusts until he can reach her hand with the one against the mattress. It’s not that comfortable, maybe, but when she takes hold of it like he’s her anchor in the storm, he decides it’s worth it.

So with his eyes still closed, hers still sightless, their hands linked, and the slightest taste of her on his lips, they fall asleep.

***

“Sara! Lenny! Breakfast!”

Leonard groans, not entirely sure why his sister is yelling so loudly when she’s clearly standing in his bedroom doorway, but when he goes to turn over to ask her as much, he freezes.

Sara’s curled into his chest in her sleep, and he’s wrapped his arm around her. One arm is numb from where it’s crushed between them, his hand still in hers.

“Give us a minute,” he mutters, feeling Sara go still against him.

Lisa’s retort is so quiet he only just hears it: “At least you still have clothes on. I do not need to see my brother naked in bed with his girlfriend.”

Sara pulls back, and the first thing he notices is that she’s bright red, either because of how they slept or because of Lisa’s comment, he isn’t sure.

The second thing he notices is that her eyes are locked onto his.

“You can see,” he says, a smile tugging at his lips, and she smiles back as she nods.

“Breakfast!” Lisa reminds them from the other room, and Leonard becomes abruptly aware of the fact that he and Sara are still pressed together from the waist down.

Their smiles fade, and there’s something in Sara’s eyes—plus there’s the sheer joy and relief, at least on Leonard’s part, that she can see again—that tells him a kiss or more might be appreciated rather than rebuked, but the door is open, and Lisa’s waiting, so with a sigh, he rolls out of bed.

He reaches the little dining room table and stops short.

“All that yelling for donuts?” he asks incredulously.

Sara comes up behind him. “Are those _fresh_?” she asks, taking a seat next to Lisa. “She could’ve yelled louder.” She takes a bite and moans. “We can’t get these on the Waverider, Len.”

Lisa smirks triumphantly, and, resigned, Leonard takes a seat before grabbing some donuts of his own. Breakfast is pleasant, alternating between chit-chat and bickering and comfortable silence, and way too soon, Sara’s and Leonard’s phones chime, saying the Waverider is ready and waiting for them.

Honestly, if his hand weren’t stiff and sore, he might make the team wait, but as it is, getting to the med bay doesn’t sound like a horrible idea. Besides, he doesn't think it would hurt to let Gideon have a look at Sara, either.

The three of them walk together back to the ship, which is camouflaged in a parking lot closer than the usual stop. Sara exchanges goodbyes with Lisa, then nods at Leonard before heading up the ramp, giving him a chance to say goodbye to his sister alone.

Lisa hugs him tight, taking the opportunity to say in his ear, “If I’m not invited to the wedding, I _will_ find a way to track you down and show the whole team every embarrassing photo I can find.”

She pins him with a serious stare when she pulls back, effectively silencing any attempts he might’ve made at denying their relationship might be headed that way, that he might want it to end up there someday. Instead, he nods curtly, and she hugs him again. “Stay safe, Lenny.”

“You too, Lisa.” He heads to the ramp, but he watches her leave before he goes to the med bay.

The whole team is there, because of course they are, but Sara’s apparently already been given a clean bill of health, so Leonard gets to have an audience while Gideon fixes his hand.

Yippee.

He’s all but held hostage while the ship does its thing, but luckily, this isn’t one of the days when the team has a long attention span, and before long, it’s just Sara and Mick left, and then it’s just Sara, and when his hand is done, he has an idiotic urge to walk her back to her room, and for whatever reason, she accepts.

He's not at all sure where they stand, he realizes as they walk through the corridor. For the most part, they didn't cross any new lines. Even the kiss…

They'd ignored a kiss once before, rather thoroughly.

Given the circumstances, the careful touching in the dark, this new one almost feels like a dream already.

When they reach her room, she looks at him, unsure, then sits on her bed. He's not sure whether she wants him to come in or leave, so he compromises by leaning against the doorframe.

It's all too familiar, and she isn't speaking, just looking at her hands, and he's almost decided to walk away when she finally breaks the silence.

“I heard you,” she says, so quietly that he takes a step closer. “Yesterday.”

“What do you mean?” he prompts when she falls silent.

She looks up at him, and he stills at the look in her eyes. He reaches behind him and closes the door, then moves to stand beside her, leaning against the bed. It puts them close, maybe closer than they were the night before, before they fell asleep.

Sara exhales. “I regret not being with you, too.”

For a moment, neither of them moves, speaks, breathes. Then his lips are on hers, or hers are on his, he doesn’t really care which since the effect is the same, and unlike their last two kisses, this one stretches out, and he’s able to really taste, explore, be explored in return.

When the kiss finally ends, Sara’s clothes and hair are a mess, and he suspects he’s not in much better shape. He’d like to continue, to mess them up further or remove the clothing entirely, but she looks like she has something to say.

“I’m glad you were there yesterday.”

Leonard feels a stab of guilt break through his happy haze; if he hadn’t been with her, she might not have gotten hurt in the first place.

“No,” she says, clearly seeing right through him. “Don’t do that. I could’ve gotten hurt anywhere. But I’m glad you were there when I woke up. It would’ve been nice to be able to see, but it was the next best thing.” She seems to consider her words for a beat. “It’s like as long as I could hear you or touch you, I knew where I was. I didn’t need to see.”

Words have their uses, and Leonard’s quite a fan of them when they’re used properly. Hell, he could listen to the ones Sara’s just uttered until he truly believes them.

For now, though, for his part, he thinks actions might have to do, and he kisses Sara until they both see stars.


End file.
